


Dreams of Dragons

by SlytherinHowl



Series: The Wounded Queen [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinHowl/pseuds/SlytherinHowl
Summary: Queen Daenerys' dreams are plagued with visions of a past that never happened. She hears words that had never been said. She fears the arms that hold her a night are nothing but an illusion of her mind. Is it true?





	Dreams of Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> I'll never forgive D&D for doing such a ridiculous, lousy job at writing our girl Dany in S8, so I decided to ignore canon completely and make S08E05 _a literal freaking nightmare because no one is going to stop me_. This story is part of my 'Wounded Queen' AU, so reading the previous parts is super recommended, especially 'Beauty of a Winter Storm' (the other part is just me wanting to make them kiss - feel free to skip if you want to). If you don't want to read, you have to know that neither Jorah nor Missandei are dead (but Jon is) and that Dany is not mad - she's got other emotional issues but madness is not one of them. This work is set a year after 'Promise of Spring', so Jorah and Daenerys are a couple here, if you will.  
> I wrote this on my phone on a plane so I apologise for any mistakes, but I do hope you enjoy it!

Daenerys was flying. Oh what a wonderful feeling it was, the wind on her hair, Drogon’s scales beneath her hands. She leaned forward on her dragon, on her beautiful child, and flew even faster. She had both eyes, both legs worked well, she was thrumming with energy. Daenerys saw a vast city approaching, hidden between brown walls. She narrowed her eyes as the sound of bells hit her ears and one word escaped her lips before she could even think twice. 

“Dracarys!” 

King’s Landing was aflame under the wings of her dragon. The city burned quickly and the Red Keep was torn to pieces. She breathed in the scent of burnt stone and flesh and suddenly she was falling. She fell, fell, fell until she hit the dusty ground. She raised her aching head to see a circle of people, faces she had known in her life: Tyrion Lannister, Jon Snow, Grey Worm, Missandei, Cersei Lannister, Viserys, Jorah Mormont. 

“Well, look where you ended up, little sister. You think you could take _my_ place and not suffer the consequences?” Viserys sneered. 

“You should have stayed in Essos among that filth you call your people. That is where a foreign whore like you belongs!” Cersei followed, sporting a ferocious smirk on her face. Daenerys’ tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth; she could not speak, she could not breathe, her body felt as if it was bound to the spot. She could only fear. 

“I died fighting for you. I died and left Missandei and it was all for you. Now you hide. We die, you take the glory and you hide!” Grey Worm banged his spear on the ground. They were slowly coming closer, covering her field of vision with their anger. 

“Now, speaking frankly, Daenerys: you have always brought destruction along with you. You destroyed some perfectly functional cities in Essos with your futile idealism. You destroyed King’s Landing, you destroyed _your own son_. My dear, Jorah should have let you drink that poisoned wine,” Tyrion said in a mocking tone. Daenerys looked at Jorah in terror, but the knight simply shook his head at her in disgust. She did not know what was true and what was not but she loathed herself all the same. She had blood in her hands, innocent blood. She was indeed a mad foreign whore and a queen of nothing but ashes. 

“I should never have believed you. I should never have loved you. You are a monster, Daenerys,” Jon shouted as he unsheathed Longclaw. _"No. No. **No!** Jon, please, forgive me, Jorah, **please** , please, Missandei, **help me** , I am sorry, **please** , please, **Jon** , no, no, no-“_

Daenerys woke up startled. She could hardly breathe and her entire body shook in fear. She could not see nor recognise her surroundings; the harmful words she heard played over and over on her head and clouded her judgement. She tried to rack her memory for things that reminded her of the reality she was living in, but she was unsure if anything she thought of was true. She pressed her face against the pillow and muffled a suffocating scream that bubbled in her chest. 

“Khaleesi,” as if sensing her distress, Jorah abandoned the realm of sleep and wrapped his arms around the queen, drawing her close to his chest. She breathed shakily and hugged his torso, wishing she could hide forever in his embrace, “having trouble sleeping, dear?” He had taken to calling her that in private and Daenerys could not help but feel a strange kind of warmth whenever the word rolled off his tongue. Her sweet bear, so tame to her touch. 

“I was... Dreaming,” she hesitated, not knowing if she should share her horrific dream with Jorah. The little voice that inhabited the ruins of her fallen wall told her to keep quiet and to push away from his arms, yet her heart ached so much she wished to cling to Jorah’s shoulder and weep. Daenerys still had trouble with her tears; never in her life had she been completely free to shed them, they always meant weakness, and weakness should be defeated. She wanted to be silent and to fight her sorrow to death, but the butterfly kisses he was pressing to her temples and to her scars and the patterns he drew in her back prompted her to speak with a shuddery breath. 

“I dreamt I was the Queen of Ashes. I burnt Kings Landing to the ground, I burnt the Red Keep, I burnt the people in the streets. Then a circle of people appeared around me, Viserys and Tyrion and Cersei and... You. They said I destroyed everything and I awoke as Jon unsheathed Longclaw to bury it in my chest,” her voice became desperate as she spoke and a river of tears streamed down the unscarred side of her face. She tried to fight the sobs to no avail, they escaped her lips as she wailed and shook, consumed by fear and sadness. 

Jorah carded his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and kissed her face rather blindly, for he could not see well. He found her eye and brushed his lips against every tear, then kissed her cheekbone and her jaw, around her earlobe and down her neck, nipping ever so slightly at the sensitive spots he knew. Her sobs had subsided and her breathing had evened out when he caught her lower lip between his teeth. He kissed her slowly then, deeply, until the tension left her lithe body and she started tugging at his nightshirt. She removed the garment and pawed at his chest, feeling his old greyscale scars under her fingers. _“He is real. This is real.”_

“Everything I have to tell you, you already know. You are the fair, righteous queen of the Six Kingdoms, my dear,” he said, before adding almost inaudibly “and the queen of my heart, too.” 

Daenerys opened her eye to look into the shadows of his face. She could make out his beard-covered jaw and his nose, which she kissed, to his surprise. She did not know if he ruled over her heart, but she was very glad to have him by her side, after years of pushing him away. She felt something akin to happiness in his arms, and this happiness was what broke her. 

“I know, Jorah, or at least I am supposed to know, yet it seems that my head is bent on tormenting me. It will not let me live a painless life. All I want is to be happy, even if for a moment, but I do not know how to. They were right, I destroy everything,” her early desperation gave way to defeat. Inside her, the broken and burned stones were slowly rearranging themselves into a new wall, one she did not want to build. Daenerys wanted to scream. _“No, I want to die.”_

“Khaleesi, my Khaleesi, my wonderful girl... My love. Destroy? My dearest, you built so much since I met you. You built a better world in Essos, free of slavery. You fought off the dead so bravely, you rebuilt the Six Kingdoms after a horrendous war, you ruled it fairly for fifteen years. You built the love for you in your people’s hearts. They love you because you are worthy of love,” he wiped some more tears that fell and held her tightly for a while, “you know, my head often torments me, too. I catch myself thinking of my father or of how I betrayed you, and I will not stop for a long time. When it happens I want to drink myself to death.” 

“Sounds like a good way to go,” she added grimly. 

“No, it does not, Daenerys. I have lived the past twenty years beside you and I plan to die beside you. I will never leave you alone, neither will Tyrion or Missandei. You do not have many friends, but those you do have love you dearly, remember this. We will help you chase these bad dreams away, my dear, if you allow us. I know you are in pain and that words hardly ever help in situations like these, but hear me out: you are loved. Very much so,” he said as he rubbed his nose against hers and tried to dry her tears with his thumb. She gave him a teary kiss and ran her right hand through his beard. 

“What do you dream of, my bear?” 

“Oh, me? Like any good bear I dream of salmons and tall trees to scratch my back with,” he said with a smile and Daenerys chuckled slightly, “I dream of a maiden fair with honey on her hair.” 

“Stop it, you,” she ordered halfheartedly, fighting a smile that contrasted with her tears. Jorah was relieved to have found something to distract Daenerys and lift her mood, so he started snuffling her face and making growling bear noises until she was chuckling louder. 

“There, there was a bear, a bear, all black and brown and covered in hair. He sniffed her on the summer air, the maid with honey all up in her hair,” Jorah sung against her hair. 

“I am no expert in music but I believe you skipped a good chunk of the lyrics, my bear.” 

“Yes, I am too busy with my maiden fair to remember,” she huffed somewhat amusedly and settled under his chin, “would you like to talk some more or do you want to sleep again?” 

“I do not know if sleeping will do me any good, but I would like to try. Tomorrow... I will talk. To you and to Tyrion and Missandei too.” 

“As you wish, dear.” 

Daenerys closed her good eye and took a few deep, calming breaths. She was still afraid, still unsure of her worth, still wary of her own mind, but she knew what was real. The scars on her face and her aching knee were real. The fight against the dead was real and the bloody defeat of the Lannister armies was real. But the peace outside her window was also real. The flowers that started to bloom were real. Her strange, odd-fitting and bickering family - Missandei, Tyrion and Jorah - was real. She was the Last Dragon and she was real. And she was not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This was partially inspired by the song 'Breaking Down' by Florence + The Machine. In fact, whenever I write something with Dany in it, she is inspired by Florence's songs to some degree, I don't know why. If you read this far go listen to Florence she is the best thing since sliced bread.


End file.
